Care No More
by Spirit Dog
Summary: This takes place right after the shriek attack on the camp, and deals with its aftermath. It always bothered me that the game does not fully deal with just how painful what happened is for the Dalish PC, as well as how unsettling it is for everyone.


"I have always loved you, lethallin."

The words rang in her head as she stared at Tamlen's body. Everyone except her and Alistair had gone back to camp already, but it was all she could do to stand upright without bursting into tears, throwing up or both at the same time. She could barely breathe, barely move and it all hurt so much. Reshalya felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her and pull her close. He just held her tightly for a long time before speaking. "I'm sorry," Alistair said softly, "he was that friend of yours, wasn't he? And he was the one with you when you found the…"

Reshalya choked back tears, "My best friend and sometimes more, for as long as I could remember. Childishly, stupidly, I somehow hoped that if I could be saved he could too. Either that or at least... well you know."

Alistair held tightly onto her slim frame, not saying a word, but just holding her. She just let the tears flow silently for a time before continuing, "It was better than blaming myself, but I did that too. It hurts so much. It didn't hurt so much back then, why does it hurt so much now?"

Alistair lifted her chin so he could look her into her eyes. With his other hand, he gently stroked a tear away from her cheek, "Reshalya, it was for the best. He was too far gone from the taint. I'm so sorry. We can bury him if you like."

She nodded, "Surprised you remembered."

He kissed her forehead, "Of course I remembered. I love you."

"We need to bury him with an oaken staff, and cedar branch, if we can find both trees near here," her voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

He snaked his arms around Reshalya's waist and lead her back to camp. Alistair's tender touch gave her a small measure of solace. He thought that she handled his own grief with such care and grace, and he could only hope to the Maker that he could live up to her example in her hour of need. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Alistair remembered how sad and lost she seemed when he first met her. The last thing he wanted was for her to have to feel like that ever again, "I'll take care of it," his voice was soft and gentle, "don't worry."

As they walked back to camp, they started to hear the voices of the rest of their traveling company. The usual mundane chatter of camp was silenced by the darkspawn attack, replaced by worried talk of what happened. Sten's voice rang out the clearest, "We should increase the watches and fortifications so that we cannot be caught by surprise again."

Oghren harrumphed at him and belched before discussing with him how to fortify camp. The others, were discussing how it was even possible for the darkspawn to find them so unawares and how lucky they were that the Wardens had dozed off together by the fire instead of bedding down for the night.

Alistair sat Reshalya down on the furs next to the fire. He spoke gently but firmly, careful to avoid mentioning Tamlen directly, "We need to talk about the dream, but let me put the others to work first. Sit here and don't move."

It was all she could do to nod. Alistair hugged her tightly and kissed the top of her head before moving off to make arraignments. He walked through the camp looking for Wynne or Morrigan first. He did not dare leave her alone.

Alistair was in a daze himself. He had never seen her like this, come to think of it, when they had encountered the Dalish, they were fairly stoic and quiet about death. She, on the other hand, was visibly upset, almost crying, her body felt like a ragdoll in his arms. Even when he first met her at Ostagar, when she seemed so lost and sad, it did not take much for him to get her to cheer up and smile. In fact, the first thing she did was to laugh at one of his jokes. This was different and it worried him, a lot. The entire company looked visibly shaken, however, Morrigan looked a good deal less shaken then Wynne. Alistair decided that she might be the better choice, since he was not sure that Wynne was in a good enough state to be able to help anyone else.

He swallowed hard and approached Morrigan, "You and Reshalya are good friends, right?"

Morrigan dismissed him with a wave of her hand, "tis true, but why does this concern you?"

Alistair looked at his feet briefly, trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to say. The words spilled out faster then he would have liked, "She needs a friend right now. I'm not here to accuse you or harass you for once. That ghoul with the shrieks was a clan mate of hers - a friend. I'm going to arrange having him buried, but she shouldn't be left alone while I do that."

The witch stared at him with disbelief, "t'would not it be better to have someone besides me do it? I am not known for my sympathy."

He sighed, "But she trusts you more than any of the others. Maker only knows why. Besides maybe you could give her some herbal tea or something that could calm her down?"

"Very well."

Reshalya felt a mug of something warm being placed in her hands. She sniffed it and stared at the contents. "It is only tea, do not worry, " Morrigan said as she sat down next to the elf.

The elvhen woman took a few gulps of the hot liquid, "Orange peel, mint and honey?"

Morrigan nodded, though she was at a bit of a loss as to what to do with her distraught friend other then sit next to her and give her tea. Grief had never been something she really understood, perhaps because she had never lost anyone close enough to her to actually grieve. The witch tentatively put a hand on the elvhen woman's shoulder. She felt the other woman slump down as if deflated under her touch. They sat together in silence as Reshalya drank down the tea. Breaking the silence that was starting to become uncomfortable, Morrigan finally spoke, "Alistair said this elf was a friend of yours."

Reshalya gulped, she had been trying to compose herself, and speaking was difficult, "Friend and then some. His name was Tamlen."

Morrigan stared at her, "And he survived all this time with the taint?"

"I guess he did. I… I… Almost wish that he had died back then, it would have been merciful," Reshalya fidgeted with the mug in her hands, "It feels like another lifetime, Morrigan. Why does it hurt so much?"

Morrigan looked at her friend quizzically, "I know not of such things. Why not ask someone who knows of this?" She figured this was not the best time to say that she had never actually cared about anyone enough before to feel their loss.

Reshalya almost giggled even in her grief, "It was rhetorical. Can I tell you about him? It might help make me feel better."

"Would not Alistair's ears be better for this then mine?"

The elvhen woman shook her head, "He's already heard much of it, besides too much talk of Tamlen makes him uncomfortable sometimes. We were lovers off and on."

The witch sat up at this comment, clearly intrigued, "Alistair tis a fool to feel threatened by memories. You on the other hand…"

"Me what?" Reshalya blinked, confused.

"Tis it not a bit unusual for Dalish to take lovers?"

Reshalya gave Morrigan a funny look and chuckled, "Only a bit, and it depends on the clan really. We bond for love, so the idea of making sure your compatible in every way surely isn't that strange?"

"Most practical," Morrigan said as she refilled the mug.

"Thought you'd think so. Anyways, Tamlen and I had been friends for as long as I can remember. Me, him and Fenarel were pretty much inseparable, but as we got older, my feelings changed towards Tamlen and his towards mine," Reshalya closed her eyes as memories flooded her. She could see herself, Tamlen, and Fenarel playing as children, running and laughing. Suddenly they were older and she was alone with Tamlen, running breathlessly, collapsing in each others' arms and stealing a first, tentative kiss.

Reshalya sighed and sniffled, trying to fight back tears, "And pretty much everyone expected us to bond. We were slowly trying to sort things out ourselves. One day we'd be getting in and out of trouble as normal, and the next sneaking behind the halla pen to make out."

Morrigan watched her friend as she gulped down the tea between her words. It looked almost as if drinking down the warm liquid was keeping Reshalya from bursting into tears. She sat and watched Reshalya as she spoke, unsure of how to deal with this naked display of emotion, "We kept on like that for a long time. Sometimes lovers, sometimes best friends, and oftentimes I'd find myself wandering away from camp for days at a time, preferring solitude and hunting to anything. He always used to tease me that I'd end up just wandering off one day and living amongst humans."

Morrigan refilled the mug again. The witch nodded, thinking she should eventually say something, "Slightly prophetic."

"Not really, more sometimes he seemed to know me better then I knew myself. Well, it just never felt right to me, and the sex wasn't great, and never nearly as good as it's always been with Alistair," she blushed slightly, "the last time we were out hunting together, it was so I could thank him for covering for me. We were umm… brawling the night before, and only he got caught and he refused to name names."

Reshalya gulped in air, and then let the words spill out as she explained for the second time to anyone outside of her clan exactly what happened that day.

Alistair watched the two women next to the fire out of the corner of his eye. He hoped to himself that he had made the right choice in having Morrigan watch over her. With Reshalya's ability to make friends, he sometimes thought she'd ask the darkspawn over for tea, ask them nicely to leave and they would. He shook his head before striding purposefully towards Sten and Oghren. The two men were still arguing about camp fortifications.

The templar walked up next to them and cleared his throat, "The darkspawn come from underground. Fortifying the camp won't help much unless you can fortify dirt."

The two men immediately stopped bickering and stared at Alistair, "Now that I have your attention," he continued, "I need both of you to do something. Well it's not something for me exactly, but it's important. "

"Then tell just this task rather than waist time talking about why we must do it," Sten stated with a slight trace of impatience in his voice.

Alistair tried to keep his face steely, but his eyes betrayed his worry, "I need you to dig a grave for the ghoul that was with the darkspawn. It used to be a friend of Reshalya's and I promised her we would give him a proper Dalish burial."

Sten tilted his head slightly at Alistair, "We will do this for kadan."

Oghren stared at Alistair, "Aye you sodding pansy we can dig."

Alistair straightened, clearly shocked that they agreed so easily, "Right. I need to finish some other arrangements then."

He looked over at the fire, Reshalya and Morrigan were still sitting talking, while Reshalya was drinking deeply of her tea. Alistair half wondered what was actually in it since Morrigan was not drinking it at all, and Reshalya seemed to have calmed down, a lot. On the one hand, she did seem much more together, but on the other hand, he worried about just what Morrigan had put into that mug. Alistair banished the thought as soon as it came since whatever it was, it at least did not seem to be doing any harm. He just hoped, whatever it was, that it was not Reshalya pulling on her amazing ability to suppress painful events again. Fenris, Reshalya's mabari hound, had protectively curled his bulk on the side of his mistress opposite of Morrigan.

Lelianna was comforting a very shaken Wynne, so he let the two of them be. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Oghren had convinced the dwarven merchant that traveled with their camp and his son to help with the grave. The men were making quick work of the burial. This left Zevran for one last task.

Alistair found the elf sitting outside of his tent fastidiously cleaning his blades. Approaching the elvhen assassin with purposefully noisy steps, Alistair cleared his throat and explained to Zevran what Reshalya had told him about the tree branches and a sapling. Zevran for his part merely nodded and agreed to attempt to find what was needed.

Satisfied that the arrangements were being handled properly, Alistair returned to the women sitting next to the fire. Upon hearing his approach, Morrigan stood up, making space for him to sit. She put a hand on Reshalya's shoulder before turning to Alistair, giving him a look that could be half considered a glare, and half a look of pity and walked away. Alistair sat next to his beloved and pulled her close to him. He spoke softly, his voice betraying his worry, "Did you have the dream too, with the Archdemon? It felt like it was looking at us."

Reshalya nodded slowly, "Yeah."

Alistair traced the lines of the tattoo on her forehead and down her nose. He poked the tip of her nose, then gently cupped her cheek in his hand, "I'm sorry my love. I know you're hurting a lot right now, but we need to talk about this dream with the Archdemon while it's fresh in our minds," he looked down slightly, "It felt like the Archdemon was looking at us, watching us. With the dream, and with what we saw in the Deep Roads, this really is a Blight, isn't it?"

The elvhen woman straightened a little bit, and shifted her hips, "Yeah, I think you're right."

"You know how some people always want to be right?", Alistair fought hard to keep his voice even, "not me. I really don't want to be right, not about this at least."

Reshalya looked back down at the ground and held on tightly to Fenris. The mabari looked up at her, but did not protest, "Sometimes..." she paused, searching for the right words, "Lethallin, sometimes I feel like we really can do this, like together we can do anything we try to," she sighed and tried to make herself disappear between her lover and the large dog, "Other times, this just feels so overwhelming, so impossible. That there is no way the two of us can do what has taken armies of Wardens in the past."

Alistair nodded, wrapping his arms tightly around her, "I know, but we have to try."

She gulped, her voice betraying the sobs she was trying to hold back, "I'd never be able to live with myself if we didn't... If... if by not trying, we couldn't... couldn't protect those we should." As soon as the words left her lips, Reshalya finally let the tears she had been choking back flow. Alistair held on to her tightly as she sobbed, sometimes stroking her hair and back, sometimes just holding her. Fenris repositioned himself in front of his mistress, attentive and protective.

Eventually the tears stopped coming, and Alistair just held her protectively in his arms. The rest of the camp faded away, voices blurring into the background, and her entire world became the protective circle of his embrace. As Reshayla's senses started to come back, she could feel something cool and damp on her face. Alistair was tenderly, carefully, cleaning the tear tracks from her face with a damp linen handkerchief. Wynne stood just far enough away not to directly intrude. The elder mage waited for Alistair to finish before speaking her voice tired and laced with concern, "Sten says to tell you it's done."

Reshalya stood up onto surprisingly solid legs, then helped Alistair stand as well, "I'd like to go properly say goodbye to him then."

Together all of the traveling company, Zevran conspicuously absent, moved towards the grave side. Before long, however, Zevran emerged from the woods looking slightly dirty, and with a small oaken sapling in his hands. He smiled, "My dear Warden, I am sorry I am late. Alistair was very specific about what tree branches were needed and what type of sapling to get. He was also very specific as to what he would do to me if I did not find them."

Despite herself, Reshalya chuckled as she took the sapling from Zevran's hands, "Ma serannas Zev."

Zevran flashed her a warm smile, tried to carefully wipe the dirt off of his hands, and stood between Reshalya and Morrigan. He knew better then to attempt to stand on her other side, where Alistair stood. Reshalya thought not for the first time, that sometimes Alistair just does something that makes her realize how much she loves him so much, and what attracted him to her in the first place. Alistair has a kinder heart then anyone she has ever met; he could be so shy and boyish, but whenever she really needed it, he would just do things like this, like what he did tonight. She realized, almost half chuckling to herself, that Tamlen would have never approved of the match simply because Alistair is human.

Reshalya spoke quietly as she carefully planted the sapling on top of the fresh grave mound, "Brother, I wish you could have met him, the man who stole my heart from you. He's a Grey Warden, like me. One smile, one selfless act, and he would have changed your mind about humans forever. He's the one who made sure you can rest properly. Abelas my friend for not pulling you away from that mirror, for not forcing you to turn around. May Falon'din guide you to rest, and may you know no more sorrows. I miss you, old friend."

The elvhen woman stood up, and brushed the dirt off of herself. No one said a word, no one was sure what to say. Alistair protectively put a hand on her shoulder and nodded. She stood over the grave and said:

Fear no more the frown o' the great;

Thou art past the tyrant's stroke;

Care no more to clothe and eat;  
To thee the reed is as the oak:  
The sceptre, learning, physic, must  
All follow this, and come to dust.

Fear no more the lightning-flash,  
Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone;  
Fear not slander, censure rash;  
Thou hast finished joy and moan;  
All lovers young, all lovers must  
Consign to thee, and come to dust.

No exorciser harm thee!  
Nor no witchcraft charm thee!  
Ghost unlaid forbear thee!  
Nothing ill come near thee!  
Quiet consummation have;  
And renownéd be thy grave![1]

Reshalya then turned and slowly walked back to camp, with Alistair at her side and the others following behind. She half said, half whispered, "Thank you, my love, just thank you."

[1] Shakespeare, William "Cymbeline" (Act IV Scene 2)


End file.
